The Seeker and the Storyteller
by mpissott
Summary: Cassandra Pentaghast and Varric Tethras have always had an interesting relationship. When the thought of them being more than friends arises, how will they react? Unsure if this is going to be a compilation of oneshots or a related fic.
1. Chapter 1

Cassandra had always found her and Varric's relationship to be strained at best, impossible at worst. Admittedly, her somewhat abrasive nature when they first met most certainly contributed to this; but every time she tries to apologize, the dwarf dismisses her with a joke, usually about her affinity for stabbing books or yelling.

That is exactly why Dorian's question for Varric threw her off.

They were traipsing through the Hinterlands, closing rifts and making life safer for the refugees. Dorian's inquiry did not appear to be spurred on by anything, he just came out and asked, "Varric, are you and Cassandra…?"

It took Cassandra a moment to figure out what the mage meant, but she caught on quickly enough. Did Dorian truly think that _her_ and _Varric _could be an item? It was strange to ponder. Under other circumstances, Cassandra would have at least considered the dwarf attractive. Though he was small, he was quite muscular, and charming when he wished to be; however, he had been nothing but sardonic, making snide remarks and spinning tales. The man was lucky he could even keep all of his stories straight.

"No," the dwarf dismissed. "Why would you even ask that?"

The nature of Varric's response confounded Cassandra, possibly more than Dorian asking the question in the first place. Usually, Varric lived to spin stories and make people second guess everything he said. The fact that he was so blunt in his rejection of the idea put a pit in the bottom of the Seeker's stomach, though she didn't know why.

"Truly?" Dorian inquired. "Bizarre."

"I'm right here!" Cassandra shouted. This encounter was growing more embarrassing by the second. She was hoping that pointing out her presence would be enough to at least temporarily stop the conversation.

"See? She's _right there_," Dorian elaborated, not taking the bait. "What are you waiting for?"

"Just because two people dislike each other, doesn't mean they're about to kiss, Sparkler."

"Not according to your books."

This was true; in many of the dwarf's novels the characters who seemed to detest each other the most ended up falling in love. When Dorian's comment elicited a chuckle from Cassandra, Varric glared at her in confusion before answering, "Don't mistake me for that hack who wrote _Hard in Hightown 2. _I can spell."

That was all that became of the conversation, but its content still bothered Cassandra. There were so many questions. The first thing she wanted to know was why Dorian thought that the two of them would possibly be involved with one another. By the Maker, she detested the dwarf and he detested her. It had always been so, and would remain that way. Regardless, Varric's response lingered. Cassandra couldn't help but feel somewhat hurt. It seemed that Varric was so repulsed by the idea that he would rather dismiss it entirely than make one of his signature jokes about it.

All of her thoughts were muddled by the cheap mead now circulating through her system. The tavern at Haven had closed its doors long ago now and Cassandra sat at the bar, alone with her thoughts. That was, until she heard the door swing open.

"Evening, Seeker," the dwarf shouted.

"What are you doing here, dwarf?"

"The guards said you were in here, drinking yourself into a stupor. I thought if I couldn't dissuade you, I could at least join you."

Cassandra grasped a bar stool, attempting to symbolize that the seat was available for him to take. Just as she was about to fall, Varric caught her and propped her up again. "Damn, Seeker, I didn't know that you drank this much," he jested as he poured his own mead. "What's the occasion?"

"I guess you could consider me slightly more angry than usual."

"I probably shouldn't have been the one to come and check on you then."

"Better you than Dorian," the Seeker muttered, staring into Varric's eyes.

The pair grew silent and broke eye contact, unspoken thoughts hanging in the air between them. There was a great deal to consider about Dorian's words, and it appeared that Varric agreed.

"Does this, by any chance," Varric began, "have to do with the discussion with said Tevinter friend?"

Cassandra sighed, placing her mead down on the bar. "Yes. No. I don't know," she muttered. "I'm very...confused by a few things from the encounter. First of all, I want to know why Dorian would even ask if we were...together. Second, why did you dismiss the idea so quickly? I know we don't have feelings for one another but you usually play along; are you that embarrassed by the thought of being with me?"

"Andraste's ass, Seeker! No, I'm not embarrassed. Dorian asked because one way or another we always seem to pester each other. That and the fact that no matter how much we fight, we always go back for more. I dismissed it so quickly because I thought you would be upset if I didn't, not if I did! Plus...perhaps there's more to consider here."

"What more is there to consider?" Varric's responses continue to surprise Cassandra. She didn't think her feelings would have anything to do with his reaction; if anything, her disapproval should have been enough to send Varric into a tirade about their nonexistent love affair.

"Maybe Dorian's question isn't entirely without merit," Varric was practically whispering now, clearly flustered by the mead and the words coming out of his mouth. "I undoubtedly have a lot of respect for you, Seeker. For that respect to grow into something else-hypothetically, it wouldn't be impossible. Though it's probably impossible on your end; what would you want with the dwarf who takes time out of his day to write you smutty novels, no matter how many of them you've lodged knives into?"

Cassandra's laugh bellowed through the tavern. That was the Varric she knew. Maybe she didn't hate the dwarf after all; if he did not behave in his usual manner, she would be concerned for him. "You can be quite charming, I'll give you that," she pondered. "Maybe there is, in fact, more to consider. Maybe that's because I'm piss drunk, who knows?"

Varric loosened up now, laughing at Cassandra. "Seeker! You make jokes? Who knew?" She slumped herself over the bar, causing Varric to say, "I should probably escort you back to your room. Not good for one of the esteemed members of the Inquisition to be seen stumbling drunk around the complex."

With that, Cassandra was quietly escorted by Varric back to her quarters. When she opened her door, he nonchalantly tried to enter with her. She held him back, one hand on his exposed chest. "No," she said, voice dripping with alcohol and humor. "I know we've established that we don't hate each other, but you will not bed me anytime soon."

"Can't fault a guy for trying. Goodnight, Seeker."

"Goodnight, dwarf."


	2. Chapter 2

The Breach was finally sealed. The people of Haven were safe. They still had this "Elder One" to to deal with, but the most immediate threat was neutralized.

Cassandra approached Victoria, who was watching the people celebrate. "Solas confirms the heavens are scarred but calm. The Breach is sealed. We've reports of lingering rifts, and many questions remain, but this was a victory. Word of your heroism has spread."

"You know how many were involved. Luck put me at the center," Victoria stated. Cassandra admired how humble she was, considering all she's done.

"A strange kind of luck," Cassandra joked. "I'm not sure if we need more or less. But you're right. This was a victory of alliance. One of the few in recent memory. With the Breach closed, that alliance will need new focus."

It was then that Cassandra heard the warning bells. Victoria looked at her, eyes widened. "Go find Varric," Victoria suggested. "Meet me at the gates after you find him, I'll be with Dorian and Solas."

Cassandra wouldn't show it, but she was relieved that she had been sent to find Varric. Maker knows where he could be, and despite what she would have others believe, she did not wish him harm. Luckily, he was at the tavern, the most obvious place to search.

The sound of the bell was muted in the tavern, the people unsuspecting of the events occurring outside. Varric knew there was something wrong, Cassandra's eyes must have given it away. His eyes grew serious as he sobered up almost immediately. "What is it, Seeker?"

"I don't know for sure. The bells are going off, whoever is attacking is nearby. Victoria sent me to find you."

Without a word, Varric grabbed Bianca and rushed out the door, following Cassandra to the gates. The intruder was unknown until a young man named Cole informed them: the Elder One had finally come for them. Victoria took more in her party than usual, including Varric, Solas, Dorian and herself. They needed to retake the trebuchets, fighting off templars that had been infected deeply with red lyrium. Some of them had skin that glowed red, and others had been completely mutated, red lyrium growing from their skin, growing _as_ their skin. Cassandra tried not to focus on the men-she knew many templars, and did not want to find one that she recognized. Of course, she knew the leader Samson, but he was always a vile man. Some of these men were once her friends. She cut them down as she had to; urging them to yield was for naught.

They had taken back the first trebuchet and were running to the second when Cassandra fell. It was not like her, but she had been more shaken than usual. She attempted to get up, but she felt the shield of a red templar connect to her face, knocking her back and causing blood to spill from her lip. The creature stared down at her, and in that moment Cassandra knew she was going to die. She closed her eyes, preparing for the final blow, when she heard the sound of metal on metal, and then metal on flesh. When she opened her eyes, Varric was standing above her, blood on his crossbow and his face, while the templar lay dead on the floor.

Varric used Bianca from a distance under most circumstances, never did he use her with the force he just did. Cassandra actually asked him about it once, and his response was something along the lines of '_Why would I do that? It would hurt Bianca._' As Varric pulled her up, the look of surprise must have been clear on Cassandra's face, and finally Varric had the revelation as well. Cassandra was important enough to defend, even if it had meant sacrificing his crossbow. He looked to her, and down to the blood on his crossbow, and ran off to follow Trevelyan and the others. Cassandra followed; this was a conversation for later, if there was a later.

They fired the second trebuchet, causing an avalanche that buried many of the Elder One's troops. Their victory was short-lived however, as a dragon appeared in the sky, threatening to burn Haven to the ground with its red lyrium breath. They rushed inside to the Chantry, saving as many civilians as possible. After various arguments once they reached temporary safety, they decided to exploit their only option: draw out the Elder one and cause one last avalanche after the people of Haven were far enough away to not be crushed.

They fought through red templars, eventually arriving at the trebuchet. Victoria prepared it while everyone else defended her, and before long, the dragon appeared again, knocking them all down with its breath. "Go!" Victoria yelled, and everyone but Cassandra got up to leave.

"Seeker, come _on_!" Varric shouted, dragging her next to him when she wouldn't comply. It took them a long time, but they reached the camp. Last they knew, the avalanche had occurred, but they were unsure if the Herald made it out alive. Cassandra did what she could to comfort Cullen; despite how he tried to hide it, Cassandra could see how he felt about her, and it was killing him. Hours later, the Herald returned to them. She was freezing, and had many injuries, but she was alive.

While Dorian, Vivienne and Solas tended to her, Cassandra took her opportunity to talk to Varric about what he did. "Varric, a word?" she inquired, and he nodded, beckoning her over. "About before, you saving me with-"

"It's no big deal, Seeker," Varric interrupted, "We save people all the time. This time it just happened to be you."

Why was he pretending like this was normal? He always said he wouldn't use Bianca with force, she was too important. With their previous conversations, and Dorian's comments about the two of them, this was hardly normal behavior. "You know that's not what I mean, Varric," Cassandra blurted out, and it was suddenly too late to turn back. "You used Bianca to save me. You said you never would use her the way you did, but here you sit with a bloody crossbow...for me."

"You think it means something?" Varric scoffed, wounding Cassandra. "Seeker, you needed saving, I saved you. It's not _special_. If it had been Dorian, or Solas, or the Herald, I would have done the same thing. I did what had to be done."

"But you could have just shot-"

"I reacted as quickly as I could, and that's what happened. Would you like me to think more next time? To give an enemy the extra five seconds he needs to kill you? I could have done that. I _still_ could do that. It meant nothing. Let it go."

This made Cassandra furious, so angry that her eyes started to well up. "Fine," she muttered, and as she walked away, she could swear she heard Varric mutter, _shit_ under his breath.

Maker, did Varric fuck up.

First, he basically admitted that there could be something between the Seeker and himself that night at the tavern. Next, he saves her by putting _Bianca_ of all things between her and her death. Then, he cramps up and tells her it meant nothing, and now he was in her quarters to face her after bringing Hawke to the Inquisition.

Honestly, he deserved what was happening to him right now. Cassandra was attempting to punch him, grab him, maybe strangle him...and he deserved it all.

"You knew where Hawke was all along!" the Seeker shouted.

Varric felt guilty. He knew he was wrong, but Cassandra's ire only made him more frustrated. "You're damned right I did!"

"You conniving little shit!"

In hindsight, Varric should have brought Hawke into this earlier, but at the time, he had no clue what Cassandra was looking to do to her. For all he knew, Cassandra wanted Hawke hanged for starting the mage rebellion.

"You kidnapped me! You interrogated me! What did you expect?"

"Hey! Enough!" they heard the Herald-turned-Inquisitor shout.

"You're taking _his_ side?" Cassandra retorted, and for a moment Varric was more concerned for Victoria's life than his own.

Victoria was unwavering. "I said _enough_!" she demanded, silencing the Seeker.

Cassandra had partially calmed down, before saying, "We needed someone to lead this Inquisition. First, Leliana and I searched for the Hero of Ferelden, but she had vanished. Then we looked for Hawke, but she was gone, too. We thought it all connected, but no." She looked to Varric then. "But it was just you. You kept her from us."

Varric sighed before arguing, "The Inquisition _has_ a leader."

"Hawke would have been at the Conclave. If _anyone_ could have saved Most Holy…"

"Varric's not responsible for what happened at the Conclave," Trevelyan interjected.

"I was protecting my friend!" Varric shouted, eliciting further anger from Cassandra.

Only this was the quiet kind of anger. Varric had never seen this from her. She looked to the Inquisitor and muttered, "Varric is a liar, Inquisitor. A snake. Even after the Conclave, when we needed Hawke most, Varric kept her secret."

The Seeker's words stung him. _A snake_, he thought. He knew that she found him annoying at times, but that made him feel vile. More vile than he already felt for hurting and betraying Cassandra.

"She's with us now," he argued. "We're on the same side!"

"We all know whose side you're on, Varric. It will never be the Inquisition's."

"Attacking him now won't help us, Cassandra," Victoria was trying to get her moderately calm now.

"Exactly!" Varric agreed.

When he did so, Trevelyan shot him a look. "And _you_ better not be keeping anything else from us."

"I understand," Varric sighed.

Cassandra sighed, leaning over a railing. "I must not think of what could have been. We have so much at stake. Go, Varric. Just...go."

Varric grew even sadder at her defeated tone. As he was about to leave, he tried to do what he could to reassure her. "You know what I think? If Hawke had been at the temple, she'd be dead, too."

Varric returned to his spot inside the castle, thinking about all that had transpired between him and Cassandra. He knew their relationship was tumultuous, but this might just be enough to stop any friendship they had. Varric had fucked up, he knew it. There was no right time to bring Hawke into the picture, but he couldn't hide her any longer. This was his way to be honest with the Seeker, and she took it as an insult. He rubbed the back of his neck in frustration when he heard the Inquisitor walk up to him.

"Cassandra's calmed down. I think you can take your hand off your crossbow," she joked, clearly trying to make Varric feel better to no avail.

"Define 'calmed down' for me in terms of who or what she's punching right now. I wasn't trying to keep secrets. I told the Inquisition everything that seemed important at the time."

"I know, Varric," she reassured him. "You never would've kept quiet otherwise."

"I keep hoping...none of this is real," he admitted. "Maybe it's all some bullshit from the Fade, and it'll just disappear. I know I need to do better. I'm sorry."

Victoria smirked, then, and Varric raised an eyebrow at her. "If you want to make it up to Cassandra, I'm pretty sure I know how you can."

If there's one thing Varric was shocked by in this world, it was that Cassandra loved his worse series of novels. However, she confided this in the Inquisitor, and was caught red-handed with the book. As he followed the Inquisitor to Cassandra's usual spot, he had to fight to suppress his smirk.

Once Cassandra saw them coming, she stood, quirking an eyebrow at the both of them. "What have you done now?"

"I get it, Seeker," Varric jested. "You're still sore after our spat."

"I'm not a child, Varric," she insisted. "Do not suggest I'm without reason."

"A peace offering: the next chapter of _Swords and Shields_. I hear you're a fan."

She looked to Trevelyan. "This is your doing."

"Oh, yes," the Inquisitor responded, smiling from ear to ear. "Do you really think I'd miss this?"

Varric decided to tease Cassandra now. "Well, if you're not interested, you're not interested. Still needs editing, anyhow."

As he was walking away, the Seeker shouted, "Wait!"

He stopped now, turning around and smirking at her. "You're probably wondering what happens to the Knight-Captain after the last chapter."

Cassandra's eyes widened, and Varric swore that she never looked so adorable in the time he's seen her. She was like an excited school girl, especially when she shouted, "Nothing should happen to her. She was falsely accused!"

Getting a rise out of this, Varric continued, "Well, it turns out the guardsman-"

"Don't _tell_ me!" she shouted, and by the time she reached him, he was already holding the book out for her.

"This is the part where you thank the Inquisitor. I don't normally give sneak peeks, after all."

"I...thank you," she smiled at the Inquisitor.

"This was everything I'd hoped," Trevelyan giggled.

"I know how you feel," Varric concurred, though it was for an entirely different reason. He had never seen the Seeker so happy, and it warmed his heart. That's when it hit him. _Fuck_, he thought, _Dorian was right. I have a __**crush**__ on the Seeker._

"I wonder if I have time to read the first part?" he heard her question, bringing a smile to his face.

Cassandra had hoped that Varric would come when he received her message. She wanted time to talk to him, to find out why he really agreed to write the next chapter of the book. She ignored the fact that she was only in a light tunic and pants instead of her usual armor, because this couldn't wait. She was sitting on her cot, book opened on top of her blankets, hoping to read as much as she could before they headed out.

"You called, Seeker?" she heard Varric as he came up the stairs to her quarters.

"Yes, I…" she started. "Thank you, Varric. Why did you write this for me?"

"Well...I knew that what I did-_everything_ I've done to you-has been shitty," he started. "Despite your penchant for stabbing books and interrogating dwarves, you don't deserve that. You're a good person. I know this can't make up for it, but it's a start. Plus, I figure our playful banter doesn't really work if you want to gouge my eyes out."

They shared a laugh at that. "No, I suppose it wouldn't. Varric…" she trailed off. She wasn't sure exactly what she wanted to say, or how she wanted to say it.

Varric sat down on her cot, moving the book from her hands and bringing her head up, so she was looking at him. "Cassandra," he started, and it was one of very few times he used her actual name. "I don't use Bianca as a blunt object for _any_ purpose. I used her for you. I may have said some stupid things, but that _definitely_ means something. I just didn't know what it meant until I handed you that book and saw how beautiful you look when you're happy. You need to smile more."

And with that, Varric's lips were on hers. Cassandra was startled by the gesture, but before long she was kissing him back. He was a surprisingly good kisser. She ran her fingers through his hair, bringing him closer to her. She felt his hands on her waist, holding her tighter than she'd been held in a long time. He withdrew slightly, their lips still inches apart. "Maker," he muttered. "I must have wanted to do that for much longer than I thought."

Cassandra giggled at that. "It appears Dorian was right."

Varric nodded and rose, kissing her on the forehead before whispering, "Goodnight, Seeker."

"Goodnight, dwarf."


End file.
